


Beauty and the Bloodsucker

by AuroraBorealia, LadyNorbert



Series: Skyhold Academy Yearbook [9]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Bad Puns, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Castles, Curse Breaking, Curses, F/M, Story within a Story, Vampires, Writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 04:05:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16468370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraBorealia/pseuds/AuroraBorealia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyNorbert/pseuds/LadyNorbert
Summary: Jim and Rory decide to write a vampire AU to enter into a writing contest. Hilarity ensues.





	Beauty and the Bloodsucker

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everybody! A couple days ago, I stumbled onto a spooky-themed solitaire game. I was playing it while AB was at work, and as soon as she got home, I messaged her with the idea that the game gave me and which would not leave me alone: vampire Cullen. We immediately decided that Jim and Rory would have entirely too much fun with such an idea, and so as a special Halloween gift to our beloved readers, we present to you this unplanned installment in the SAY lineup. We're still working on the next parts, never fear, but we hope you'll enjoy this in the meantime.
> 
> No tricks, just treats. Happy Halloween!

* * *

 

**Beauty and the Bloodsucker**

 

* * *

“So… you know how we were talking about doing a Storm Age AU?” Jim began casually.

“Yes,” said Rory, eyeing her best friend with both amusement and suspicion as she looked up from her bowl of cereal. “Why do I suspect you have something in mind, oh writing partner of mine?”

“Well, I found this.” He put a magazine page on the table in front of her. “It’s a fiction contest, but the catch is that the story has to be about vampires. I thought, what if we do a vampire Storm Age story?”

“A Storm Age vampire AU?” she repeated, eyes widening. “Maker… I kind of love that.” Abruptly, her eyes narrowed. “They wouldn’t sparkle, would they?”

“What? No.” He laughed. “I, uh… I had some thoughts about it already, to be honest. And I think we’re going to want to change the character names before we send it in, you know.”

“So what you’re saying is it’s totally going to be more teacher fanfic, right? Because in that case, yeah, we should one hundred percent change the names before we turn it in or I will literally die of embarrassment.”

“Yeah. But we could leave the names until the very end, so that our loyal crew of beta readers knows who’s who.” He grinned. “You want to give Krem a cameo of some kind?”

“Oh, of course I do! It’s like his reward for putting up with my weirdness.” She giggled. “Anyway, so you have ideas already?” She made an exaggerated show of cupping her hand around her ear. “To quote Professor Pavus, I am, as you say down south, all ears.”

“I’m thinking vampire family,” he said, sitting down and pulling out his little notebook. “Based on Professor R and his siblings. They’re nobles who live in a somewhat remote castle, and every year they throw a ball on the eve of the Blood Moon and invite everybody in their bannorn or whatever it is they rule. And it’s an open secret that they’re vampires, and they feed just once a year on someone who doesn’t die, so people think it’s, like, a super big compliment to be chosen as one of the four ‘blood donors.’ It’s the social event of the season and all it costs is four people to be a little sick for about a week afterward. What do you think?”

“Jimmy...” She blinked for a second. “I _love_ this. This is a _great_ idea! Maker, I imagine the handsome Lord Rutherford will be all the rage with people during this event and he’d hate every second of it. So then he encounters lovely newcomer Evangeline Trevelyan, I’m sure, and they probably connect and things get complicated?”

“Naturally. He probably wants to turn her and spend the rest of forever with her, and his siblings object because this is going to upset the balance of whatever agreement they’ve made with the dark forces or what have you. There’s supposed to be _four_.” Jim chuckled. “I couldn’t bring myself to suggest making Professor R even a little bit evil, but I guess there’s got to be some kind of dark magic at work.”

“Maybe they were all cursed by a maleficar or something. Ooh, or they made a deal with one to keep them from dying maybe. I don’t know, we can figure it out as we go, but I love where this is going.” She clapped a little. “Wow, to think we might enter this in a contest - that’s exciting and surreal all at once.”

“So… to Google docs? After you finish breakfast, of course.”

“Breakfast?” she scoffed. “Who needs breakfast when there’s work to be done? To Google docs indeed, my friend.”

“You finish your food, I’ll get the doc set up,” he argued. “Can’t have you being brilliant on an empty stomach.”

“Awwww,” she said, wrinkling her nose playfully at him. “You’re sweet, I think I’ll keep you. Okay, okay, I’ll finish up here. But as soon as I’m done, brilliance shall commence, count on it! Or, if not brilliance, something absurd probably.” She giggled again.

“Is there a difference, when it comes to us?”

“That, Jimmy, is a very good point.”

 

* * *

 

The entire bannorn of Sky Haven was abuzz with plans for the annual Blood Moon Ball. Dressmakers and tailors were overwhelmed with orders for new garments for the elite members of society, who considered this the grandest social event of each year. The bannorn flourished under the governance of its ruler, Lord Cullen Rutherford, and his three siblings; they were the epitome of grace and charm and almost impossible beauty, and everyone who was anyone longed for an invitation to their court. But they opened their doors each year on the eve of the Blood Moon, the full moon of midsummer, and deep into the night their ancient castle echoed with music and revelry. Many a betrothal was arranged following this event each year, though never yet had anyone managed to ensnare any of the four noble siblings themselves.

“You’ll be wanting to go to this yourself, mistress,” the innkeeper told Evangeline Trevelyan. She was foreign to the realm, and traveling in search of her dreams.

“Will I?” she replied. “I have been to many a grand ball, but they hold little appeal anymore since my parents died.”

“Oh, but this ball is something special!” said one of the young serving girls, who overheard the entire conversation. She was a thin, mousy thing with a tumble of blonde hair and she looked enraptured just thinking about the event. “It’s all anyone talks about for _weeks_. I so wish I could go - Lord Cullen and his brother are so handsome.”

“What makes this affair so special? I mean, besides the handsome lords.”

“Why, all of the local nobles attend this ball!” said another serving girl, wiping a table. “Lord Cullen and his brother and sisters greet everyone, and eventually they each select one guest whom they favor with their attention for the rest of the night. They dance with no one else, spirit them away for private conversation… it’s considered the very highest of compliments to be chosen. Lady Rosalie - the youngest - she’s spoiled for choice every year, half the young men and more than a few of the young women around here are head over heels for her. The most ravishing thing in a coronet, they call her.”

“Although the eldest sister doesn’t lack for attention either,” said the blonde. “My friend’s brother was chosen to be Lady Mia’s partner last year. You should have _seen_ him!” She giggled. “He walked around in a daze for the rest of the month, like he was pining after her! I’m surprised he didn’t write her love poems!”

In spite of herself, Evvy chuckled. “Well… if it’s allowable for me to go… I mean, I wasn’t directly invited… but it does sound like fun. Are you sure it’s permitted?”

“Oh, it’s more than permitted,” said the blonde with a knowing sort of tone. “It’s encouraged.”

“Really? That’s… very generous of your lords and ladies.” She was genuinely surprised. “What, um… what should I wear, do you think?”

“Well, there’s a theme, mistress,” the other serving girl explained. “Because it’s the Blood Moon Ball, everyone wears white, red, and black. That’s why everyone rushes to the dressmakers - to get something new made in those colors so they can keep with the theme.”

“Oh, I see.” Evvy nodded. “Well, I have a white dress, which should suffice. I don’t want to overburden the dressmakers more than they already are.”

The servants nodded, exchanging knowing looks. “A wise decision. Oh, good afternoon, Lady de Launcet,” said the second girl, giving a quick curtsey to the noblewoman who entered the room. “We were just explaining the importance of the ball to our young guest here - it’s her first time in our bannorn.”

The Comtesse de Launcet gave Evvy an obvious once over, almost looking a little curious. “I see,” she said at last. “The ball does attract all kinds of visitors, of course, all eager to be chosen. But I have high hopes for my Fifi and sweet Babette this year. And for my darling Emile! It would be such an honor if all three of them were selected.”

“As we were telling you, mistress, it’s a great compliment to be chosen by the Lords or Ladies Rutherford.” One of the girls smiled, sort of a smirk in its way. “Those of us who don’t get to go… well, we sort of live for the gossip afterward.”

“Yes, I imagine so.” The comtesse sniffed, interjecting herself into the conversation once again. “The Rutherfords are fair and just rulers, but that will only get you so far. If you want to stay leaders, you must know how to captivate people.”

“They certainly know how to do that,” said the blonde, wistfully. “And their situation certainly helps when it comes to staying in power, Maker knows.”

“Their situation?” Evvy repeated. “What… what situation?”

The young girl suddenly turned an alarming shade of white, as though quite aware she had just said something very wrong. “Uh… I just mean, of course, that they’re, uh, very popular. So they… um… their positions are secure because everyone… loves them so much,” she stammered.

“Oh. Of course.” The outsider wasn’t fooled, but she let the matter slide, seeing how frightened the girl suddenly was.

 

* * *

 

Rory’s phone buzzed. _Hey babe, how’s the new project going? I figured there must be one, that’s usually the reason when I haven’t heard from you in a few hours._

_Ooh, hey, hon! Golly, I’m sorry, I had no idea I had been neglecting you that long! Yes, we did indeed get caught up in a new project - for a contest this time! Oh sweet Maker, you are not even going to believe the idea Jim had, it’s a racket. Are you ready for this? VAMPIRE AU._

She could almost hear Krem laughing in his next text. _That sounds like something I could really sink my teeth into! Oh, Maker, I spend way too much time with Coach. He’s a bad influence. So what’s the plot?_

Rory giggled madly at Krem’s pun for a moment before responding. _Well, it’s a Cullevelyan story, so it features Professor Rutherford and his siblings as this vampire family. And it’s in the Storm Age so… wait, this is a little complicated for my poor thumbs to type out. Maybe this explanation will go better in person._

_How about I meet you in the dining hall for lunch? It’s almost time, and you probably need a break. Besides, I have a feeling some of your other fans will want to know about this too._

_I think that sounds lovely! Although we don’t have “fans”, we have friends with really high tolerance for shenanigans and… wait, we didn’t tell Nessa yet. Andraste’s flaming skirts, the girl’s gonna flip._

_Told ya._

Krem was already in the dining hall when Rory and Jim arrived, with a few of the Chargers (and former Chargers who still hung around the school) collected about him. “Don’t mind us, we’re just eager for spoilers.” He grinned.

“Aww, you guys,” Rory said, putting a hand over heart. “We have to wait for Nessa, though, or she will literally kill us.”

“That’s fair. She was your first reader, after all.” He flashed Rory another grin. “Am I going to be in this one?”

“If you want to be,” she said, returning his smile. “Like I said to Jim, getting to be in these goofy stories of ours is your reward for putting up with me. But the real question is what do you want your role to be? A guest at the ball maybe?”

“I could deal with that. Especially if I get to dance with you.” He winked.

“Awww,” she said again, favoring him with a dopey smile. “You’re too sweet, I can’t even. Anyway, if the rest of you want cameos too, let us know,” she added, managing to look away from Krem long enough to address the rest of the group.

Rocky, who seemed to be trying to grow a mustache to rival that of Professor Pavus, suddenly chuckled. “Maybe the Chargers could appear as a group. The master vampire’s undead army of minions, or something.”

“Now that is a fun idea,” Rory said, likewise laughing. To Jim, she added, “I wonder if Ness will want a cameo.”

“Wonder no more. Do I want a cameo in what?” Nessa asked, plopping into the chair next to Jim. “What are you up to now and when do I get to read it?”

“To answer your last question first, as soon as we have enough for you to read is when you can read it,” said Rory. “As for just what you’ll be reading, Jim saw this writing contest calling for… wait for it… vampire stories! So we’re doing vampire Cullevelyan!”

“That is equal parts disturbing and fantastic. Heck yes I want a cameo,” came the amused reply. “But which one of them is the vampire?”

“Well, as I was telling Krem, there’s a whole thing here. I thought it might be easier to explain in person. Gather ‘round.” She clapped her hands together and began launching into a more detailed description of the plot.

There were quite a few giggles, a number of “ooh”s, and a couple of smug grins by the time she was finished. “This is ridiculous and I love it already,” said Nessa. “Are you going to show it to Professor Tethras?”

“Erm… good question. Maybe?” she allowed. “We’re definitely going to change the names, although Maker knows he’d see through that in a minute, so I don’t know.”

“For the sake of Mrs. Tethras, I vote yes,” joked Stitches. “Give the man a distraction for five minutes.”

“That is true,” Rory agreed. “It would be a kindly sacrifice to be sure. So we’ll think about it. Although with Andraste as my witness, allow me to say right now that we are never showing this to the Rutherfords. Any of them. That includes Cole.”

“Honestly,” said Krem, giving it a little thought, “that might be for the best at least as far as he’s concerned. Vampire stories are a little dark by nature. I’m not sure Cole could… handle that, you know?”

“Exactly. Because he thinks the world of his parents. And _we_ think the world of his parents, so the last thing I would want him to think is that we were being, I don’t know, weird or disrespectful or something. Better to not have him read something that could just upset him.”

“So just how are they vampires but not the evil kind? I didn’t know vampires came in non-evil varieties,” said Skinner.

“We can’t reveal all our secrets,” said Rory with a little smile. “Don’t let me fool you, that’s code for ‘the story hasn’t told us yet.’”

“Oh yeah, isn’t that what Professor T always likes to say?” Krem mused. “He says a good story is always there, you just uncover it. Well, I can’t wait to see what you uncover.”

“Thanks, hon.” Rory kissed his cheek for that. “We are too. I don’t know all of where this is going to go, but it’s going to be fun and crazy and we are gonna love every single second of it.”

“You officially have bats in your belfry,” said Rocky. Everyone groaned.

 

* * *

 

On the night of the Blood Moon, Rutherford Hall was illuminated with the glow of a thousand candles. Carriages were lined up at the gates, bringing every member of the nobility and the gentry to be found for miles. The castle consisted of a great stone keep, with a magnificent tower in each of the four cardinal directions, set on an isolated plot of very fine land.

Inside the great keep, the four golden-haired nobles awaited their guests. “Rosalie, you get too excited,” said Mia fondly. “We’ve been doing this for years, I should think you were used to it by now.”

“I can’t help it!” Rosalie said in a somewhat overjoyed shriek, entirely proving her sister’s point. “The rest of the year is so dreary and then this night… to get to dance and talk and have everyone want to see us - _us_! And everything and everyone look so beautiful! I hope I never get used to it, because it’s the most incredible feeling in the world.”

“You just like having that little group follow you around like lovesick puppies,” Branson teased her. “Although to be fair, I don’t exactly hate it either… pretty sure only Cul does that.”

“Yes, everyone in the bannorn is excited except for one person, and that person is the lord of the manor himself,” said Rosalie, leaning forward to look in Cullen’s direction. From his place at the front of their little line, he rolled his eyes, but said nothing to deny it.

It was, after all, entirely true - Lord Cullen Rutherford _loathed_ this ball. While everyone else used it as an excuse to drink and dance and flirt, Cullen knew it only as a thing he and his siblings were forced to do for survival. And, like most things people were forced to do for survival, it was unpleasant to say the least. He knew that he needed to feed - he could already feel the effects of that need creeping through him, draining him of energy and causing an exquisite headache to form right in the center of his forehead (although to be fair, that could have been caused by stress as well). But nevertheless, the entire awkward affair made him squirm, for while his siblings handled their need with aplomb and grace, Cullen felt hollow every year when he was forced to play along with this bizarre game. Hollow, awkward, and foolish… and it was beginning to grow tiresome.

“Let’s just get it over with,” he muttered darkly, tugging at his stiff collar.

“And here they come.” The rigors of the receiving line were, perhaps, the one part of the ball which Mia disliked almost as much as Cullen, but she performed the duty as flawlessly as ever. Once everyone was packed into the keep, and had been welcomed warmly like old friends, the ball formally opened. It was unlike other balls; there was no sit-down dinner, but rather a sideboard cluttered with dishes to which the guests helped themselves. The orchestra was positioned on the dais at one end of the main hall, guided by the expert hand of an exceptionally elegant man with a luxuriant mustache. Mia nudged Cullen encouragingly, then turned to accept an invitation to dance with one of the visiting noblemen.

Cullen watched her go and made no move for a long moment, simply heaving a great sigh. It was only one day a year, and yet somehow it always managed to be the absolute worst day of his life (well, second worst, at least), each year surpassing the last in terms of awfulness. If his siblings and the bannorn didn’t need him so much, part of him was half tempted to skip the “evening meal” just to see what happened to him. But he refrained from such a thing and instead wandered to the far corner of the hall, confident that he would be mobbed in spite of his best efforts. He always was, which somehow made it worse.

~

Evvy could hardly even see her hosts, such was the crowd which formed around them at the earliest possible moment. She had greeted them briefly in the receiving line, and even as she introduced herself she was amazed by their collective beauty. The girls at the inn had certainly not exaggerated on that point, at least. But left to her own devices, and having eaten, she had nothing greater to amuse her than to circulate and listen to the gossip and socialization.

“Lord Branson is always so charming, isn’t he?” tittered one of the young noblewomen. “It’s hard to guess who he’ll pick each year, he seems to dote on almost everyone.”

“His attentions are just the littlest bit clumsy. It’s rather endearing,” noted her friend. “At least he seems to enjoy it; Lord Cullen might as well be tortured as be here.”

“I suppose Lord Branson is the one with the appetite.”

“You’re awful!” They both laughed.

Cullen happened to accidentally overhear this gossip himself as he passed by, certain that the women would not be speaking so candidly if they had seen him. Well, if nothing else at least he was doing a good job of looking as despairing as he felt. He cringed a little to think of his brother actually enjoying this, although he knew that all of his siblings did in their own ways. He didn’t begrudge them that - after all, they had precious few pleasures - but he always found it perplexing. Even so, they deserved a bit of enjoyment, so he left them to their amusements and retreated as far into the shadows as he could possibly go without becoming a part of them.

Not quite sure what to do with herself, Evvy turned her attention to admiring the art which adorned the great hall. Whoever had selected the pieces had a good eye for color, she thought, her eyes wandering over a series of lake scenes. They all seemed to be painted by the same artist; someone in the family must have been an art collector. She walked slowly down one side of the room, studying each picture in turn. Cullen, in his haste to escape, quite nearly crashed into her.

“Sweet blood of Andraste,” he exclaimed, mentally cringing again at the choice of words. “Apologies. I didn’t… I wasn’t watching where I was going. This… is not my night.” He reached out reflexively to steady the young woman he had almost knocked aside.

“I - oh! I beg your pardon, my lord,” she said with a quick curtsey. “The fault is mine; I was distracted by your art collection and not paying much attention to anything else.”

He looked up now and locked eyes with the young woman, and for a moment he was certain the breath had left his lungs as he stared into the emerald green gaze that greeted him.

“N-not at all, my lady,” he stammered. “I should have been more careful. It’s, uh… it’s rare to find guests in this particular part of the hall, rarer still to find them appreciating the art.”

“Again, I beg your pardon.” She smiled. “I am a stranger here. It is difficult for me to make conversation with so many unfamiliar people, especially when they are… otherwise occupied.”

He chuckled nervously. “Ah, yes. But that… that wasn’t a criticism. I’m _glad_ to see someone appreciating the art. Usually the only one does that during the ball is me.” Another nervous chuckle. Maker, he was approaching his hundredth birthday, how was the act of small talk still difficult for him?

“Oh, well, I am an artist myself,” she explained. “So I have an excessive fondness for it. Your collection is rather impressive - whoever chose the pieces has excellent taste.”

“Really?” He sounded a little surprised. “Most of the pieces throughout the castle were chosen by my father, but these… these were chosen by me.”

“Is that so?” She smiled again, her nervousness forgotten. “Well, then, I’m pleased to be delivering the praise to the right person.”

“And I am… very pleased to receive it,” he said, raking a hand through his blond curls in a manner that suggested a shy schoolboy. “It means quite a lot coming from an artist, so thank you.”

“My pleasure, Your Lordship.” She paused, fidgeting a little, glancing back toward the dance floor. “I… did not see you dancing.”

“Uh… no. No, I’m not much for dancing,” he said. “I would likely make an exception for the right partner, but otherwise I’m usually more content holding up the wall.” Was he blushing? Was it even still possible for him to blush? He wasn’t sure, but it certainly felt like he was now.

“Oh. I understand.” Evvy felt completely out of her element now. She pitied the lord, who seemed so uncomfortable, but she wasn’t entirely certain how she could possibly help him. “If I may ask - where did you find these pieces? I don’t recognize the name of the artist.”

“Um…” There was no easy way to explain that the artist he had commissioned to paint his favorite childhood spot had been dead for several decades, so he did his best to skirt around those pesky details. “I acquired them in an auction,” he invented. “Shortly after I became lord here, in fact. They reminded me of a pleasant childhood memory, and so I thought they deserved a new home.”

“They’re quite charming. It must have been a place you loved dearly, that you would collect so many images which reminded you of it.”

“It was.” His tone was faintly nostalgic and a little sad until he gave himself a bit of a shake. “So, uh, I fear I don’t recall your name from the greeting queue.” He smiled sheepishly. “Lady…?”

“Trevelyan. Evangeline Trevelyan, of Ostwick.” She gave another quick curtsey. “I’m a visitor in your lands.”

Ah, that explained a lot. “A pleasure, Lady Trevelyan,” he said, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to the knuckle. “I’m Cullen, but you… probably already knew that. Are you, uh, enjoying the ball so far?”

“I’ve never seen its like,” she replied truthfully. “I’ve attended balls, of course, but not one to equal this. Everyone was so excited, and very insistent that I needed to be here even though I wasn’t directly invited - I hope that’s all right?”

“Of course that’s all right. We, um, like to show visitors our hospitality.” He mentally groaned at how ridiculous that would have sounded even under normal circumstances, and how much worse it was considering the truth. “I’m very pleased you’re enjoying yourself. And you, uh… you look lovely.”

“My lord is too kind. And very dashing in his own right,” she added. “Has… ah… has your family… ruled the bannorn for many years?”

For a minute, he was so dazed by the compliment that he almost missed her question entirely. “Oh!” he said when it finally registered. “Uh, yes. Yes, for the past century or so.”

“Your family home is very impressive. It’s very old, I take it?”

“Thank you. And yes, it changed hands through the ages until it came to us. We’ve uh… made some changes, of course, but for the most part it has stayed the same for a long time. Perhaps later, if you aren’t otherwise occupied, you might be interested in a tour?”

“I would like that very much.” Her surprise was obvious. “That is, if my lord isn’t too busy himself. You have many guests to attend, I wouldn’t wish to impose.”

“Please, impose away. It’s actually not an imposition at all.” He chuckled, then lowered his voice slightly. “You’ve probably heard the gossip - I’m not fond of this event, so I wouldn’t mind the distraction.”

“Most of the gossip I’ve heard has been about how very handsome you and your brother are and how much everyone longs to be your chosen partner for the evening,” she admitted truthfully. “It is an unfamiliar custom to me, I admit. But everyone seems to find it an inexhaustible subject.”

“Yes, they do, don’t they?” he muttered. More audibly, he added, “I don’t care for it myself. That my siblings get to enjoy themselves is important to me and that the people look forward to it is… something, at least. But if it were up to me…” His voice trailed off. A lot of things would be different if it were up to him.

“I understand.” She did, at least to an extent. “Well, if my lord needs a diversion at any point, I would be very happy to take that tour.”

“Thank you, my lady,” he said genuinely, actually smiling for the first time all evening. “I can’t say how much I appreciate it.”

 _Oh, Maker, when he smiles…_ Blushing, she returned the smile. “Consider it a token of my appreciation for being allowed to attend the Blood Moon Ball. I’m sure it will make an interesting tale to share with my grandchildren someday,” she added playfully.

That filled him with an indescribable cocktail of emotions; he didn't care to stop and identify all of them, for the sake of his own sanity if nothing else. “I certainly hope so, my lady,” he said. “I certainly hope so.”

 

* * *

 

“What are you working on, Rors?” Jim plopped down beside her in the library. “Research?”

“Well,” she said, chuckling a little, “because I am literally incapable of doing anything without overthinking it to death, I decided that each of the siblings in our vampire AU should be lodged in the tower whose direction corresponds to their personality. So I’m searching the symbolism of cardinal directions, as one does.” She chuckled again. “Is that stupid?”

“Nah. Actually, that sounds pretty interesting. What did you find?”

She immediately brightened and pushed her notes over. “Okay! So! I found a few really cool books that talk about what the different directions mean to all sort of cultures.” She pointed at her notebook. “Stuff like the north representing home and security and wisdom. And the South representing adventure and loyalty. Take a look.”

“Huh.” Jim studied the pages. “Sounds like Professor Rutherford would be the east - sincerity, compassion, trust. That’s very much him.”

“I know right? I also thought it would be cute for him to have the tower where the sun rises. That just feels right for him. And I don’t know his siblings that well, of course, but his big sister Mia really strikes me as being the north. Plus she’s like their true north anyway, so it fits.”

“Yeah, that’s totally accurate. Well, I think their brother Branson is really confident - I mean, he sang in the contest for Skye’s favorite uncle - so maybe he’d be west, then? And that leaves south for Rosalie.”

“Honestly, I could see either of them fitting the last two. It might work to have the girls be north and south while the boys are east and west.” She shrugged, then smiled. “I’m so glad you get me.”

“Duh, I’m your best friend for a reason,” he teased. “Have you been overthinking anything else that I need to analyze?”

“ _Maybe_ ,” she said, drawing out the word. “I have a few thoughts on how things go for Lord Rutherford and Lady Trevelyan, for starters.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense!”

 

* * *

 

With an obvious reluctance, Cullen excused himself from Evvy’s company for a while. Well, if he was being honest, he was more or less _dragged_ from her company by a little mob of about nine ladies and six gentlemen, all of whom were eager to get him drinks or dance or otherwise engage in small talk. It was the same story every year, although where in other years he agreed to someone’s dance just for the sake of expediting the evening’s ritual, he found himself ignoring most of the attention even more than usual. In fact he barely heard their commentary at all; in his mind, he kept returning to that pair of green eyes and the sweet, kind lady to whom they belonged.

Evvy continued to wander, largely ignored by the locals who clamored for the attention of the noble siblings. She didn’t really expect Cullen to make good on that offer of a tour; he would be too busy, too distracted. It was considerate of him to even suggest such a thing, but she gave it no more thought. Of the lord himself, however, her thoughts were many, all of them agreeable. She ought to just discard the idea, but she’d never met anyone like him in her life and she had a feeling she never would again. _For one night_ , she mused, _it can’t hurt to daydream._

A few minutes later, when the orchestra began shifting from the more uptempo pieces that had started the night into slower waltzes, the nobles’ pleading increased. This was around the time of night when the Rutherford siblings began to cement their choices for the evening, but Cullen wasn’t even thinking that far ahead. His only real concern was trying to escape the tangle that had formed around him (the de Launcet sisters in particular were driving him spare). Making up an excuse, he all but wriggled his way out of their collective grasp and hurried off to hide somewhere. Part of him half hoped he’d run into Evvy again. It was strange to think, given that he had spent maybe ten minutes with the woman, but there was something about her that made him feel comfortable, like someone in this castle finally understood him. She didn’t, of course, because she had no idea what he truly was, but the feeling was there nevertheless.

She was studying a bust set into an alcove when she heard footsteps, and looked up in alarm. “Oh - my lord,” she said, curtseying once again. “Are you all right? You look… ill at ease.”

 _Ill at ease and probably just plain ill_ , he thought, rubbing his forehead a little where his headache was steadily worsening. “I’m fine, thank you,” he lied. “Just doing my best to escape the crowd - I’ve never been good in tight spaces full of people. I know, I’m in the wrong profession,” he half joked, cracking a bit of a smile.

“Oh, of course. My sympathies,” she said, and then smiled a bit in return. “I never thought about how terribly difficult it must be to be so beloved.”

“When you put it like that, I do realize it probably sounds a bit ridiculous,” he admitted. “I am very fortunate, in more ways than one. I suppose I just wish…” He sighed. “Never mind, ignore me. I’m being petulant.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean… I’m sure it’s more difficult than I’m able to picture. I meant no offense, my lord, I beg your pardon.”

“You didn’t.” He shook his head. “Offend, that is. And you don’t have to beg my pardon at all. I was actually… sort of hoping I would find you.”

Her cheeks immediately burned in astonishment. “You… you were?”

“Y-yes.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “As you might have guessed, I, uh, I’m not very good at this. But I found that talking to you was… very comfortable.”

“Well, I’m… glad you did. Um. If you… really want to escape, we could… do that tour?” she suggested.

“I would like that,” he managed, smiling a little in astonishment of his own. “Or… or if you… wanted to dance, at any point.”

“Oh, I - well, if you don’t mind, I would love a dance as well.”

He smiled wider at that and, remembering his own earlier words about dancing if he found the right partner, could feel himself maybe-blush again. “I don’t mind at all. Uh… just… let me know when the orchestra plays a song that’s to your liking and we’ll… be off.”

“I am at your disposal, my lord. We can go now, if you like; the waltz sounds very pleasant.” Oh Maker, was this really happening?

“All right then.” He executed a little bow. “May I have this dance, my lady?” he asked, almost playfully, extending his hand.

“With pleasure, my lord,” she replied, curtseying and giving him her hand. Most of the people in the great hall were bound to hate her for this, but Evvy was having difficulty caring. She was a little surprised, however, at how cold Cullen’s hand was inside his glove. _The poor thing must be freezing. I wonder why._

“My lady,” he began as he led her out to the dance floor. “I just had a thought… well, this might sound a bit silly, but I was wondering… how would you feel about perhaps just calling me ‘Cullen’ instead of ‘my lord?’”

“I - well, I - would you… prefer that? I suppose I could, if you… want.”

“I do. I would. Prefer it, that is. Not that I minded you calling me ‘my lord,’ it actually sounded rather pleasant coming from you, but…” _Maker’s breath, what is wrong with me?_ “But I just… I hear it all the time. And… sometimes I miss just being Cullen. It’s been a very long time.”

“As you wish, then, Cullen. But it follows that you must call me by my name as well.” She playfully refrained from saying it, wanting to see if he remembered what it was.

“Of course, my la- I mean, Evangeline,” he corrected himself. “It’s a pretty name, by the way.”

“You’re too kind. I was called after a favorite old song of my mother’s.” Why she was so pleased that he remembered her name, she wasn’t entirely sure and decided not to think about it too closely.

“I think I remember that song. I mean, I think I’ve heard it. It’s beautiful.” Void take him, he almost added _just like you._ What on earth was wrong with him tonight?

“It is. Perhaps the orchestra might know it?”

“They might indeed! If they do, I will make sure they play it before the night is out,” he assured her with a smile.

“My lord Cullen is a most generous host,” she said, a little taken aback by the fondness in her own voice. “And a divine dancer, may I add.”

“Really? Why, thank you. As I said earlier, I'm not much for dancing, but maybe the right partner really does make all the difference.”

“You’re flattering me.” She smiled, eyes bright. “Nobody warned me that you were a charmer, Cullen.”

He laughed at that and inexplicably shivered a little in delight as she said his name. “I am most certainly not a charmer. That’s my brother’s role. But thank you for saying it.” The way she said it made it seem like she meant it, that it wasn’t just some meaningless platitude used to gain his favor, and he appreciated it more than he could say.

“Allow me to disagree. I find you thoroughly charming - I enjoy your company.” She felt his shiver; yes, surely he was very cold. They ought to warm themselves by the fire at the first opportunity, she thought.

“Really? You do? I… I enjoy your company too,” he said truthfully. “I’ve never enjoyed anyone’s company at this ball, so this is… entirely new.”

“I’m surprised. But you do seem a bit… if I may say this without offending… particular. A man of very distinct taste, as it were, not easily satisfied. There’s nothing wrong with that, of course.”

“I suppose you could say that. I think maybe I just want things I cannot have. I know legions of people would long for courtiers vying for their attention, but I don’t want that - I want someone who… cares. About me. Is that selfish of me?”

“No more than it is of anyone else, I should think,” she mused. “I mean, isn’t that what we all want? To be loved for who we are?”

“Yes, I imagine it is,” he said sadly. “I don’t think I’ll ever have that. Sometimes I wish… well, all the time I wish that things were different.” He didn’t quite mean to speak so candidly, but there was something about her that made it easy, almost automatic.

“But surely your brother and sisters, if no one else, love you for yourself?”

He wouldn’t blame them if they didn’t. He knew they did, of course, that was their nature, but he was the reason they were in this predicament after all. “They alone are the exception, I think. And I am grateful for them, of course - without them I would not be here. But sometimes I wish for more.”

Evvy didn’t entirely understand what he meant, and something sad and wistful in his voice kept her from asking for more particulars. “It’s the human condition, I think, to always want what we cannot have,” she said at length. “You’re not alone in that, Cullen. We all do.”

He managed a smile. “Thank you, Evangeline, for understanding.” Even if she didn’t know the truth, he appreciated the words. “I know it must sound foolish to complain of wanting more when I live here and have such privilege. I hope you… don’t think badly of me for it.”

“Not at all. There’s not a thing you’ve said this evening that has in any way lessened my opinion of you,” she promised. The dance was ending, so they genuflected accordingly. “I can’t help but notice that you seem quite chilled - perhaps we should go and warm ourselves at the fire?”

Maker, of course she would notice he was cold and of course she wouldn't know why. “Oh, thank you. You are kind to worry. I tend to get… quite cold naturally, but, uh, I won’t say no to trying to warm up.”

“All right.” She took his arm and they made their way to the great fireplace, where a roaring blaze was doing its best to stave off the evening chill. “I thank you, my lord Cullen, for… taking me into your confidence. You honor me with the conversation.”

“You honor me with listening,” he returned. “I… haven’t admitted those things out loud before. I appreciate you taking the time to comfort me. I’m sure when most people come to a grand ball, the last thing they want to do is listen to the host whine.” He chuckled weakly.

“You’ve done no such thing,” she scolded lightly, smiling. “Oh, but… I believe the Ladies de Launcet are moving in this direction. Perhaps we should take that tour now?”

“Oh, Maker,” he said, almost alarmed. “Yes, please, let’s. Thank you.”

She took his arm again, still smiling. “Lead the way.”

He wore a smile as well as he steered her down one of the nearby corridors. “Bless you for saving me from that,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m sure they’re very nice young ladies but they… are not blessed with the gift of conversation.”

“You’re entirely welcome. So… tell me about Rutherford Hall.”

He did so and, as they walked through the castle, occasionally arriving back at the main hall as they did so, he could feel many eyes upon them. Most notably, his siblings were watching him like hawks, probably wondering if he had found his evening partner. He wished they would look anywhere else, but of course he wasn’t that lucky.

Evvy blushed under the scrutiny, especially when Lady Rosalie came over and briefly interrogated them. Her manner was playful and friendly, and there was nothing at all hostile in it, but it was still a little nerve-wracking. “Would you excuse me for a moment, Cullen?” she asked at one point. “I should powder my nose.”

“Oh, of course,” he said, shooting Rosalie a bit of a glare as if his sister had chased Evvy off. “I’ll be here.”

“She’s pretty,” said Rosalie when Evvy was gone. “And you’ve hardly let her out of your sight for hours! You shouldn’t wait too much longer, Cul, some of these people are eyeing you. Branson already left with his partner.”

“I’m not spending time with her because I’m trying to set up some sort of prelude!” he protested. “I’m spending time with her because I’ve been enjoying her company and I like talking to her. Because I like… her.”

“Well, that’s good!” she chirped. “It’s always better when you like the person. They enjoy it more and so do we. I know you hate this, Cul, and I know why. But we don’t have a choice.”

He visibly cringed at the first part of her statement and did so again at the second part of her statement. “ _We_ may not have a choice, but I don’t have to put _her_ through it,” he muttered. How ironic that she was the only person he’d ever met at one of these wretched balls that he actually liked and that she was therefore the last person on earth he wanted to use in such a manner.

“Don’t be stubborn,” said Rosalie in a petulant tone. “You know what you have to do. If she’s not the one, then find someone else, but you have to do it soon. If you’ll excuse me, I have a very handsome red-haired man waiting to dance with me,” she added.

Cullen sighed, rubbing his temples. “Go on, then, enjoy yourself,” he said. “You deserve it.” That much, at least, was true.

She kissed his cheek and strolled off in search of her chosen partner, just as Evvy was returning to Cullen’s side. “Is everything all right, my lord? You look… unhappy.”

He was. Honestly, when wasn’t he? But he turned to her and managed a smile. “Everything is fine, thank you,” he said, a bit shakily. He had to admit he was starting to feel the effects of not feeding, but he was pushing it down. “So, uh… would you like to continue our tour? Or dance? Whatever you like.”

“I think continuing the tour sounds most agreeable. Not that dancing with you is any sort of a hardship,” she added, “but you seem to prefer the tour.”

“Agreed, I do enjoy dancing with you. But I like the privacy of the tour, I must admit. It’s nice not having everyone staring.”

“Then lead the way, my dear lord.”

The castle was large, but not large enough to stall forever, and he knew eventually his siblings would see that he had not yet retreated to his tower with Evvy. But the longer they spent in each other’s company, the more and more resolute he was in his decision to not feed on her. He was starving and he had to admit that he was indeed attracted to her, which only made the desire to feed that much worse, but the way he felt about her was entirely why he was so determined to not do this to her. If he wanted to keep up the appearance that he had done so, however, there was definitely one place they needed to visit on their tour.

“Well, I think you’ve seen most of the castle except for the towers,” he told her at last. “The North, South, and West towers belong to my siblings, so they’re private, but the East tower is mine. Quite a bit of the art collection is there, if you were interested.”

“Oh, I should very much like that,” she enthused. “So you each have your own tower, then? What a delightful way to arrange matters. Well, if you don’t object to showing me your private tower, I can think of nothing I’d like better.” All right, maybe one or two things, but she wasn’t complaining about a free art tour.

The trust she had in him, even though they had only just met, further cemented his resolve. “I don’t object at all. I don’t often get to share the art there with others and if anyone can appreciate it, I know it will be you.” He smiled and held out his hand.

Taking it with a return smile, Evvy allowed him to guide her from the great hall to the eastern tower, which was rather sparsely appointed outside of the art collection. Cullen, she thought, was a man of few comforts and little fuss, but his love for art was endearing. “These are beautiful.”

“I’m so glad you think so,” he said, genuinely pleased by the compliment. “Perhaps… perhaps one day I can add something by you to this collection.”

“Perhaps,” she agreed. “I… don’t have much in the way of art supplies these days, while I’m traveling. But when I next finish a piece, I could send it to you. A token of gratitude for your kindness this evening.”

“You have no idea how much that would mean to me, if you’re willing. This evening has been a bright spot the likes of which I have not had in a very long time.”

“Of course I’m willing. I would sketch you now, if I had the means - I have a fondness for taking likenesses,” she added. “Absent that prospect, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait.” Her smile was impish.

He chuckled at that, rubbing the back of his neck shyly. “Well, wait I shall, and significantly look forward to it. If you… if you ever come back to the bannorn, perhaps you can indeed sketch me one day.”

“We shall see. I don’t… I don’t actually know where I’m going from here,” she admitted. “We had a bad plague in Ostwick. It has begun to recover, but my parents didn’t survive and my brother is now the bann. I did not care to stay, so I took what was mine and sailed across the Waking Sea. I await my destiny, but I’m also wandering around trying to find it.”

His face immediately creased in sympathy. “Oh. Oh, I’m so sorry, Evangeline. I had no idea. I know how hard it is to lose your parents.” He reached out to squeeze her hands and winced on her behalf. “I’m sorry, I know they’re freezing.”

“It’s all right. There is warmth in the gesture all the same,” she said gently.

He felt his dead heart flip over at that, which felt entirely inappropriate when they were discussing the loss of her family. “Well… if you ever feel like you need someone to talk to or somewhere you need to go… you’re…” He wanted to say that she was always welcome in the castle, but that may not be possible. “You’ll always have a friend in me.” That might also prove to be untrue - after all, he didn’t really know what would happen to him if he didn’t feed, but chances were it wasn’t going to be good.

“You’re very kind, my lord Cullen.” Evvy put on her brave smile. “So… may I ask a possibly personal question?”

“Uh… of course?” he said a little cautiously.

“Well, everyone told me that it’s considered a tremendous compliment when you or your siblings chooses their partner for the evening,” she said slowly. “And from being in your company, it certainly _feels_ like a compliment. But… what is your chosen partner supposed to do?”

Oh Maker. Oh Andraste. “Uh… each of my siblings, um… approaches it differently. But technically, our partners don’t have to do… much of anything. It’s mostly… conversation.” That wasn’t technically a lie.

“Oh.” She looked a bit puzzled. “The way the girls at the inn looked at each other… I thought there might be something else to it.”

“Well, uh, sometimes people get a bit of an increase in social status because they were chosen. It’s completely ridiculous, I know, but…” He shrugged. “It’s worked so far.”

“It must be a Fereldan thing,” she decided with a laugh. “Very well. I doubt my social status will have enough time to increase before I’m on my way, but you have honored me with your companionship all the same.”

He smiled warmly at her. “My dear lady Evangeline, the honor is entirely mine.”

 

* * *

 

“So? What do you think?” Jim looked anxious.

Nessa shook her head, reading her phone screen diligently. “I really like it, especially how it seems to be an open secret that there’s something weird about all of this. But when does Lady Evangeline learn the truth?”

“Ah, getting ahead of yourself, bestie,” Rory said playfully. “But fair question. Well, let’s just say she doesn’t learn it now. But… soon.”

“And what kind of vampires only need to feed once a year?”

“Vampires who are based on our history teacher and his family whom we really, really didn’t want to make evil?” she said. “No, again, fair question. And as our favoritest beta reader ever, I don’t suppose you have thoughts about it, do you?”

“Well…” Nessa tapped her lips thoughtfully. “Maybe they’re not regular vampires. Maybe it’s some kind of special circumstance - maybe they could even be cured if the right events occurred?”

“Hmm…” Rory considered this. “That’s very interesting. And we haven’t quite figured out how they became vampires in the first place. What if there’s a very specific reason they became this way? Like… something happened that made it necessary? I don’t know, am I making sense?”

“It seems like Cullen feels responsible for his family being in this predicament,” said Nessa. “What if they made some kind of deal with, like, an evil magister or something? Maybe they saved his life? Or maybe it’s tied to the bannorn - like it will continue to prosper without much interference as long as they drink someone’s blood once a year. That seems like a really weirdly specific spell, but it might be something you could adapt.”

“That’s a really good idea, Ness,” she said, eyes widening. “I like that notion of them doing it to save his life, that makes a lot of sense.” She turned to glance back at Jim. “What do you think, Jimmy?”

“Yeah, it really does,” he agreed. “But I like the idea of there being a cure, too. Maybe this could be a _Beauty and the Beast_ kind of thing, where true love saves the day.”

“Hey, if there’s one thing especially in our wheelhouse, it’s _Beauty and the Beast_ .” Rory giggled. “Especially since we have poor Professor Rutherford wasting in a lonely tower _again_.”

“Here’s a thought…”

 

* * *

 

Evvy was somewhat alarmed to realize just how much time had passed. She and Cullen had been sitting by themselves, speaking of art and the bannorn and her home in Ostwick, well into the night. “Maker have mercy,” she said, glancing at the time. “I’ve monopolized you for far too long - the conversation was so enjoyable that I didn’t notice the hour.”

“Hmm?” He glanced in the same direction her gaze was trained. “Oh! Oh, neither did I. I’m… so glad you found it enjoyable, because Maker knows I did.” He chuckled a little in that shy, awkward manner that was his hallmark. “So don’t apologize for monopolizing me, please.”

“Well, I can’t honestly say I’m sorry about it.” She giggled. “But perhaps we should go back and I will bid you a proper good night.”

“Uh, of course.” He managed a smile. If his siblings saw her leave looking completely hale and hearty, they would know he had shirked his “duty”. But then again, they were likely going to know that anyway.

She took his arm, and they made their way back through the castle. “I’ve enjoyed my evening tremendously, my lord Cullen,” she told him. “Thank you for your many courtesies.”

“Thank you for coming in the first place, my lady Evangeline,” he returned. “And for putting up with my complaining.” He laughed, then more seriously, he added, “This evening has been… one of the best I can remember. I’m very grateful to have met you.”

“And I you,” she replied honestly. “I’m only sorry that the night is already over… I could spend a few dozen more in your company.”

“That is so flattering to hear. For the first time in my life, you make me wish this ball were a longer event. I hope that I can see you again someday.”

“Well, I… I’m not leaving the bannorn just yet,” she said, thoughtfully. “So… it’s possible you’ll see me before I go.”

He brightened a little, even though he probably had no right to do so. “Well, I certainly hope so.” He smiled. “As I said, you’ll always have a friend here so long as I dwell within these walls. So you are welcome here.”

“Thank you.” Evvy smiled up at him. “And now… I see that the ball is winding down, and I… must take my leave of you. Good night, my lord Cullen, and thank you again.”

“Good night, dear lady,” he said, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to it as he had done earlier in the evening. But something about the gesture felt different now, like it somehow meant more.

There was a wistfulness in her green eyes as she smiled at him for the last time before leaving the castle. It was strange; she hadn’t felt so at home since leaving Ostwick as she had with Cullen. But something about the whole situation felt peculiar, and she didn’t know why, but she was fairly certain that something was still hidden from her. She only wondered whether she would ever learn what it was.

Cullen watched her go and once she was out of sight, he allowed himself to sag against the nearest wall, overcome with emotion and completely exhausted. Whatever else happened from here, he felt confident he had made the right choice, but he had never wished to be normal more than he had when he was with her. Sighing, he roused himself from the spot, hoping to get back to his tower before his siblings spotted him.

 

* * *

 

“Hey,” said Jim, looking over the document, “we never included the business about the towers representing their personalities. Do we want to work that in later? Or just enjoy knowing it ourselves?”

“Oh shoot, we didn't, did we?” Rory pouted. “Maybe we can include it when Evvy next comes back to the castle? Or we can just enjoy our own cleverness, that works too.” She laughed.

“We’ll see if an opportunity comes to work it in organically,” he decided. “Meanwhile, should Evangeline pick up on any clues before we have her summoned back to the castle? Maybe someone being surprised that she’s so healthy after her evening with Cullen?”

“Ooh, good idea! Perhaps those serving girls from earlier comment or something. And maybe a few people are noticeably absent from day to day life because they’re recuperating.”

“Should we throw a bone to those de Launcet girls, let one of them have been chosen by Branson?” he joked.

“Let me think about that… uh, no. No, we should not.” She laughed again. “I think he would have better taste than that.”

“Pfft. That needs to be a joke between the serving girls.”

 

* * *

 

Evvy went down to breakfast the next morning at the inn, and the two servers who had urged her to attend the ball were gossiping with one another as they laid out the tea service. “Once again, the de Launcet girls were not chosen, I hear,” said one.

“Of course not. The Lords Rutherford have better taste than _that_.”

“Taste! Oh, you’re terrible!” They giggled vapidly.

They continued their amused gossiping until the blonde girl looked up and saw Evvy. She immediately elbowed her friend and at once they both snapped into quick curtsies.

“Oh, mistress! You’re… you’re awake.” She seemed entirely surprised.

“Yes, good morning,” Evvy replied pleasantly. “I could certainly do with some tea.” She wondered why they were shocked - did they think she would still be asleep? Maybe they assumed she had danced all night and would be worn out, that did seem likely.

“Of course,” said the other girl, exchanging a look with her friend as she set about pouring the tea. “We, uh… we heard rumors you were chosen by Lord Cullen. Is that true?”

“I was,” she replied in a happy voice. “We had a splendid evening. He’s really very charming and well-mannered, and I never saw such a handsome man in my life.”

The girls giggled again, but still looked faintly perplexed. “You must be very resilient then,” the blonde remarked. “I’ve never seen someone look so good after an evening with the Rutherford siblings in my entire life.”

“Why?” Evvy asked, now puzzled. “All we did was talk. I even asked him what was expected of his chosen companion, and he assured me that nothing but conversation was needed.”

“He did?” The girls exchanged a wide-eyed look. “Really? But that means… how very peculiar. Forget I said anything, mistress, I beg your pardon.”

Evvy eyed the servants over her teacup. “I feel like I’m missing something.”

“No, we… we spoke out of turn,” the blonde girl insisted. “Please, pay us no mind. Erm… will that be all, mistress?”

“For now.” Evvy was seriously considering having a word with the innkeeper and refusing to pay her bill until she got some answers.

“Thank you. Begging your pardon again.” With that, and a series of curtsies, the girls scurried from the room, their heads together as they whispered in astonishment and worry.

 _This place is strange,_ Evvy thought uneasily. _Perhaps I’m better off just… getting out of here. Did last night even happen? I’m half wondering._ She looked around as other patrons began to appear, and with a jolt she realized that they were looking at her with the same kind of surprise that the serving girls had displayed. _What is going on?!_

Even stranger, two or three of the usual townsfolk seemed to be absent from their jobs. If they were spotted later, they seemed exhausted, even sickly, and everyone seemed to act as though this were perfectly normal. Indeed, it was Evvy’s comparative health that continued to puzzle them and it became a source of gossip along with the usual gossip that always followed the Blood Moon Ball.

“Shouldn’t someone fetch a healer for Master Cremisius?” Evvy inquired of the innkeeper. “If he’s too ill to attend the horses…”

“He’ll be all right, mistress,” the innkeeper assured her. “We’re all prepared for a bit of… irregularities following the Blood Moon Ball. It’s commonplace.”

“But why? That seems… odd to me.”

“It’s just how things are. They’ve been this way for a long time and will likely continue to be this way for a long time to come. It seems a small price to pay for such peace and prosperity. And for such a spectacle as the ball.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s not easy to explain, mistress. We’ve just come to accept it. If you lived in the bannorn, you would too.”

“Is there… oh, never mind. I’m starting to think it’s time I left this place. Would it be possible to have someone take a message to Lord Cullen for me? I wouldn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”

“Of course,” said the innkeeper, even as she looked slightly unsure of her own response. “I don’t doubt a runner would be willing to go to the castle for you with a message if that’s what you wanted.”

“Very good. If I could trouble you for a quill and some paper?” Evvy was a little sad at not being able to see Cullen one more time, but the sooner she got out of his bannorn, the sooner the world would start making sense again.

“Of course,” she said again, disappearing to retrieve the implements and reappearing a moment later. With this accomplished, the innkeeper went back to her work, leaving Evvy in relative privacy to write her letter.

 

 

> _My dear Lord Cullen,_
> 
> _I wanted to bid you a proper farewell as I prepare to leave your charming bannorn. From here I intend to travel to the neighboring region of Dragon’s Reach, to see your country’s famous mountain. Perhaps I will make my way through your lands again someday. Until I do, know that I think of you fondly and I will make good on my promise to add one of my works to your art collection._
> 
> _With affection,_
> 
> _Evangeline_

She rolled up the message and sealed it, then went to find the innkeeper again. “If you can direct me to a suitable runner who can be trusted with the task, I’d appreciate it.”

The innkeeper did so, just as perplexed by Evvy’s behavior as Evvy was by everyone else’s, but maintaining a respectful silence. Within the hour, a suitable runner had indeed been found and entrusted with the message that was to be sent to Rutherford Hall.

 

* * *

 

“And meanwhile, I suppose Cullen’s siblings are half ready to kill him,” Jim joked, “since by now they’ve figured out what he did - or rather, what he didn’t do.”

“Ohhhh yeah, you bet,” Rory said. “Should we jump back in time a skosh to show that? Or should Evvy’s messenger arrive while it’s going on?”

“Either works, but I think having the messenger show up in the middle could convince the siblings that this is Cullen’s chance.”

“So what about this? Maybe we can show the build up to this - like the morning comes and the siblings are bright and perky while he’s in a bad way. Then bang, the messenger shows up and the siblings plan and then delicious, delicious drama ensues. Hmm?” Her eyes gleamed.

“Well, to quote Assistant Coach Fantastic, I am all about the drama.” Jim winked.

“And I, dearest bestie, live to serve.” She giggled.

 

* * *

 

The morning following the ball, Cullen awoke with a strangled grunt of pain, feeling more exhausted than he had when he went to bed. Every muscle ached so much, it felt like each tendon was on fire, and his head pounded with such intensity that his vision was somewhat blurry as he cracked his eyes open. So this is what it would feel like to skip the annual feeding. Part of him had always wondered and now he knew. Still, as agonizing as it was, he thought of Evvy and couldn’t help but smile a little. If she was able to still think well of him and remember the ball with fondness, his suffering was worth it. Although how he was going to explain this to his siblings he had no idea. With fingers made stiff by pain, he dressed himself, wincing constantly as he did so, and made his way shakily downstairs, trying to put on the best brave face he could muster.

“Cullen Stanton Rutherford.” It was Mia who spoke, and from her tone he knew he was in trouble. She took one look at him and knew what had happened. “You didn’t feed, did you?”

It didn’t help matters at all that she looked completely fresh-faced and glowing and healthy (well, as healthy as they could under the circumstances) while he looked so sickly he could hardly turn around to face her without giving a cry of pain. “What gave you that impression?” he managed, almost impertinently. “I’m perfectly all right.”

“You look like death. And for a man who isn’t technically alive, that’s really saying something,” she retorted. “What happened?”

He scowled at her, and the very act of doing so hurt his head all the more, so he halted at once. “I’m tired of this, Mia. And meeting Evangeline - that is, the woman I spent the evening with - just reminded me why. I wasn’t going to do that to her. I _couldn’t_.”

“Cul, sweetie, I know you hate this. We _all_ hate it. But we had no choice and now we have to do it. Why, after more than fifty years, are you being an ox about it?”

“Mia, she…” He gestured inarticulately for a second. “She _liked_ me. She really liked _me_. She didn’t spend the evening vying madly for my attention so she could social climb or trying to grope me like half the population of this bannorn has. She just wanted to be in my company because she enjoyed it. And the way she looked at me… no one’s looked at me like that in decades. Or ever.” There was a shadow on his face, although whether it was sorrow or physical pain or both it was hard to tell. “I wasn’t going to repay that by treating her like a snack.”

Her annoyance swiftly melted into sympathy. “Oh, honey. I have never seen you like this. I understand your feelings, but… look at you now. You’re going to be really ill if we don’t find you someone quickly.”

He sighed, a tortured sound. “Maker, the only thing worse than holding a ball to find someone to feed on is the idea of begging someone to come up here just for me. I can’t even imagine who’d respond to that - probably one of the de Launcet sisters, Andraste preserve me.”

In spite of the severity of the situation, Mia couldn’t help giggling at that. “They’d be here within the hour, this is true. But you must feed, Cul. I can’t bear to see you like this.”

“I know. That’s the problem. You and Bran and Ro love me too much - it’s how we got in this predicament in the first place.” His tone was miserable. “Maybe… maybe it would be better if I just… let whatever is going to happen to me happen.”

“No!” she said sharply. “Absolutely not. We have to stay together. Four points and all that nonsense. Oh, that magister, I wish I could have wrung his scrawny neck with my bare hands…”

In spite of himself, he chuckled wryly. “My sweet darling sister? Wring a man’s neck with her bare hands? I can’t picture that.” He shook his head and cried out at the pain of doing so, slamming his fist down with annoyance at the whole thing. “I’m fine,” he protested before she even had a chance to say anything.

“Allow me to disagree,” said a new voice, and they turned to see the younger pair joining them. “You are many things, Cul, but _fine_ is not one of them,” Branson continued. “What did you do?”

“I gave up,” he said flatly, shrugging as he let Mia explain things in more detail.

“But… I don’t understand,” said Rosalie when the explanation was finished. “I thought you liked her. She liked you.”

“I did like her. I _do_ like her. And so I took her back to the East Tower and we discussed art for the whole night. I couldn’t feed on her, I just couldn’t. I couldn’t… let her see what I really am. I’d rather she cherish the memory of me than fear the reality.”

Cullen’s brother and sisters looked at one another in dismay. “So what do we do now?” Branson asked finally.

“Whatever you like,” Cullen said. “I’m going to… go try to sleep again, I think.” He’d never been more exhausted, emotionally as well as physically.

“You have to eat, sweetheart,” Mia insisted. “For your own sake and that of the bannorn. Please.”

It was at this moment that Evvy’s message was delivered, and the baffled runner didn’t quite know what to make of the situation. “For you, my lord, from Lady Trevelyan.”

“What?” His bleary eyes widened and he beckoned for the message at once, unrolling it the moment it was in his hands. His expression morphed several times as he read it then read it again. “She’s leaving…” he said quietly, so quietly it was little more than a confused whisper.

“Does she say why?” Mia ventured.

He said nothing at first, merely handing her the letter. “It was foolish of me to think I’d see her again, of course, but I thought…” His voice trailed off. “As I said, foolish.”

“We could send for her,” said Rosalie. “I think you _have_ to see her, Cullen. Look at you. Reading that letter made you worse.”

“ _No_ !” he cried in some alarm. “No, all of you, I mean it. _Don’t_. If she wishes to leave the bannorn, that is her choice. Remember what I said - I’d rather be a memory to her than… than that.”

“At least give her the _option_ , Cullen,” said Mia, exasperated. “She probably doesn’t want to impose. But if you give her the _choice_ of coming here to say goodbye in person, then you’ll at least know if she wants to see you one more time or not.”

He scoffed. “What, when I look like this?” He gestured to himself. “She’ll think I’m dying!” That probably wasn’t too far off the mark, but the last thing he wanted to do was have Evvy see that.

“We have to give her the chance to say yes,” said Mia. She turned to the messenger. “Please tell Lady Trevelyan that Lord Cullen would be honored to say farewell in person, if she would not be inconvenienced.”

“Yes, my lady,” said the messenger before Cullen could protest, looking pleased to be released from the strange scene and dashing off at once.

A mask of horror fell over Cullen’s features. “I will _not_ feed on her, Maker be my witness,” he said, his voice low. “I will say goodbye to her and I will let her go, that’s _all_.”

“Fine. We can’t force you to drink,” said his older sister severely. “But if she comes, you will see her and if she asks, I think you should consider telling her the truth. I imagine she is very confused right now.”

Cullen looked angry. At least, he probably would have if he didn’t look so sickly. “I’m sure that will be a wonderful conversation,” he said bitterly. “I can’t wait to see all the warmth leave her eyes when I tell her she spent her evening being entertained by a bloodsucker.”

“I said consider it. Nothing more than that. Wait and see if she comes, first, and how she reacts to seeing you so poorly. Maybe you should be in bed to receive her, you can barely stand.”

That much was true and he could feel himself teetering even now. “Very well.” He sighed. “Wake me if she comes. Otherwise, just leave me.”

“There’s the ray of sunshine we all know and love,” said Branson. “Come on, let me help you back to your room; the girls can bring Lady Trevelyan to you when she gets here.”

In a true testament to how poorly he felt, Cullen allowed himself to be led away with absolutely no protest. His sisters remained where they were, silent and shaken, wondering what sort of answer to the summons could possibly be expected - and what would happen either way.

The answer to that first question arrived a little over an hour later, when a hired carriage brought Evvy to the doorstep of Rutherford Hall. She looked uneasy as she made her way inside; the castle had a dark, foreboding appearance which had actually been softened by the candlelight of night. Now, in the stark light of day, it was intimidating. “Er… hello?” she called.

From her place inside the castle, Rosalie gasped. “She came!” she whispered excitedly to Mia. “She really came!” Without being prompted, she hurried to intercept their guest. “Lady Evangeline, thank you so much for arriving so promptly! You may remember me from last night, I’m Cullen’s youngest sister Rosalie.”

“Of course, Lady Rosalie, it’s good to see you again. I wish it could be under better circumstances - the runner said something about Lord Cullen being ill?” Evvy shook hands cordially, but her eyes betrayed her concern.

“Yes, you could say that. And when he saw your letter… well, of course he wanted to at least take the opportunity to say goodbye if he could catch you before you left.”

“Of course. I’m happy to see him once more, though I’m sorry to hear he is unwell. I’m not surprised, though,” she added, following Rosalie to the east tower. “He was so cold last night.”

“Well, hopefully seeing you will help,” Rosalie said. “We made him go back to bed, so that’s where he is now.”

“The best place for him, I should think.” A few minutes later they were in Cullen’s room, and Evvy’s heart ached to see him looking so pale and worn. “My dear lord Cullen, this is not the way I left you last night.”

“No, I can’t say it is,” he said. Maker, it was so good to see her that he could almost forget how bad he felt. Almost. “I’m afraid I cast rather a pall on things, but it’s… wonderful to see you, Evangeline.”

She sat down at his bedside and folded her warm hands around his icy one. Branson and Rosalie, obeying a look from Mia, retreated, leaving them alone. “It’s a strange thing, Cullen,” she said. “We haven’t been apart all that long, and yet… I missed you.”

His heart cracked within his chest. “And I you. You were… the first thing on my mind when I awoke this morning, if that’s not too bold of me to say.”

“Not at all. You were the first thing on mine as well. Last night seems a bit like a dream, I wasn’t completely sure it was real.”

“A good dream, I hope?” he said with a little weak smile.

“The loveliest dream I can ever remember having,” she assured him sweetly. “With a handsome prince who made it very hard for me to leave.”

He laughed a bit, but his face soon fell. “A handsome prince,” he repeated. “I wish that were true. I wish this were indeed a fairy tale instead of...this.”

“I’m sorry you don’t feel well.” She adjusted his covers. “If you like… I could delay my departure. Stay and look after you until you recover.”

“Oh, my lady, you are the kindest person I have ever met. But I couldn't do that to you,” he insisted. “I’m afraid you can't help me the way you think you can.”

“What do you mean?”

“I am not ill with anything you know how to cure, my lady.”

“Then… what is it? Please tell me. Cullen…” She took his hand again. “You can tell me anything.”

At that, his resolve crumbled. “If only that were true,” he whispered, his voice choked as he screwed his eyes shut. “I can’t. I can’t bear it. I’m not strong enough to handle what you would think of me.”

“Shh.” She reached out to stroke his face gently. “I give you my word, as a child of the Maker or a daughter of Ostwick or whatever would comfort you most - whatever you tell me, I shan’t think any less of you than I do now.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, my lady,” he said and when he opened his eyes to look at her, they were wet with tears. “Evangeline, I… I was not truthful with you last night. The ball… there’s a reason why my siblings and I must partner off… why there’s supposed to be more to the evening than mere conversation.”

She nodded. “I suspected as much. At the inn this morning, everyone seemed puzzled to find me… healthy. Whatever they thought would happen did not. Meanwhile, others are ill and that strikes no one as odd.”

“There’s a reason for that. The people all know our secret and once a year embrace it, but… but I couldn’t bring myself to do it to you. My lady, we… my siblings and I… we aren’t human.”

She paused. “Then… what are you?”

He took a shaky breath. “Have you... ever heard of vampires?” he said at last and, before she could answer, he arched his neck back a little and opened his mouth to show her the pointed fangs that lurked behind his normal teeth.

Evvy gasped in surprise - it would have been difficult to refrain - but after a moment she wrapped her mind around the whole thing. “I see. That… that explains a few things, actually.”

“I’m so sorry, my lady,” he said, resuming a more normal position so he could look at her again. “I never wanted this. None of us did. It’s a curse… a curse that’s all my fault. I couldn’t bear to tell you last night, I just wanted you to remember me as Cullen, not as this.”

“How did this happen? You say it’s a curse?” She looked only sympathetic. “Tell me everything… it might do you some good.”

He sighed again and, with some effort, repositioned himself to better look at her. “About sixty years ago, I… I was killed,” he admitted. “A magister of Tevinter who was secretly a maleficar came to the bannorn and sought to curse it. I don’t even quite know why. It doesn’t even matter. The point is… after my parents were killed, it was left to me to try and defend the bannorn. And that’s where I died. Or came as close to it as possible, I suppose.”

“And then…?” She was clinging to his hand.

“And then my siblings threw their lives away for my sake,” he said, his voice becoming choked again. “They made a deal to save me and the bannorn, but in order to do so, we all had to become… like this. They saved me, but at what cost? They should have just let me die and gone on with lives like normal.”

“And you have to feed on someone once a year? That’s… that must be so…” Her voice trailed away. “ _That’s_ what being your chosen of the evening means, isn’t it? No wonder everyone was surprised to see me this morning.”

He nodded, looking miserable. “I've been enduring this sick game for decades and meeting you… meeting you reminded me of who I was before this. I didn’t want to do that to you. For one night, I just wanted to be Cullen, nothing more.”

“You poor darling,” she said softly. “And now you’re sick because you haven’t eaten. Cullen… what can I do? Can’t I help somehow?”

“No.” He shook his head at once. “The only way to do that would be if I fed on you and I don’t want that. It’s hard enough to know that the last time I’ll ever see you is when I’m like this. But you reminded me of who I really am, and that’s enough. It will give me comfort for… whatever is to come.”

She was quiet for a long moment. “I would let you,” she said at length. “If it meant I could save you… I think I understand how your siblings must have felt. But if you won’t… will you at least let me stay with you?”

His eyes widened at the first part of her statement, so much so that for a moment he was almost too stunned to speak. When at last he did, his words were quiet. “You would want to stay with me after… after everything I just said? You still… you don’t want to get as far away from me as possible?”

“If what you’re telling me is true - and it certainly seems like it must be - then no. This isn’t your fault. And you didn’t hurt me when you had the chance, so how can I not trust you?”

He managed a small, almost self-consciously shy smile. “I would never hurt you,” he promised. “The others in the bannorn tolerate this because we’re generous to them, so it’s worth four people being a little sickly for a while once a year. But you as an outsider… there’s no benefit for you at all. When I was with you last night during the ball, I thought that if nothing else I could at least make it a night you’d remember for good reasons. I’m sorry it had to be tainted by this.” He gestured to himself, indicating his own sickly appearance.

“Oh hush. Last night was wonderful,” she promised. “It hasn’t been tainted at all. I just… I want to help you. Isn’t there anything that can be done for any of you?”

“If there is, we’ve yet to find it. You’re sweet to even think such a thing, but this is our fate. A fate of which I have grown so tired.” He shook his head, even though the gesture was obviously painful.

“Then let me stay with you.” There were tears in Evvy’s eyes. “If you won’t let me feed you, at least let me be with you.”

He considered that and finally nodded. “All right. If you really want to stay with me… I would like nothing more.”

At that she smiled. “That is what I want, yes. I’ll just… send word to the inn to settle my account and have my things brought here, and… as long as you need me, I’ll be at your side.”

 

* * *

 

Rory paused and flailed. “Gah, these two are killing me as usual. I just have so many feels.” Clearing her throat, she added, “This is all making sense so far, right, bestie?”

“I think so. For the most part, anyway - you don’t think she’s like, too readily accepting of the whole thing, do you?”

“No, I don’t think so. I mean, maybe a little, but if she didn’t accept it, there’d be no story.” She chuckled. “Besides, she’s probably about on par with how quickly Belle comes to accept all the weird stuff going on in _Beauty and the Beast_.”

“True,” he allowed. “So do we need to explain a backstory for why the bannorn was in danger or why nobody else in the kingdom seemed to notice this maleficar moving in?”

“Hmm.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “If this were just for fun or for our friends, I’d say we could wave it off. But since it’s for a contest, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have one in mind if we need it.” Suddenly she clapped her hands together. “Ooh, wait! This is the Storm Age right? Do you remember the question on our history final exam about Arland Theirin?”

“Yeah - oh, you think maybe everybody was kind of distracted by that? That could work.”

“Mmhmm. It seems pretty reasonable that everyone would be tied up with the crazy king who was basically like a tyrant and they wouldn’t really be able to pay much mind to one bannorn. Heck, maybe any reports of chaos there were just assumed to be part of Arland’s craziness so no one even thought anything… supernatural was afoot.”

“I like it. When we tweak before we submit, maybe we can work something into the beginning about this being after the attempted coup by Sophia Dryden, or what have you.” Jim yawned. “It’s getting late, you want to keep going or call it a night?”

“Jim, we are Skyhold Academy graduates now,” she said, almost theatrically. “We have no actual responsibilities until your shift at the post office on Thursday and my continued commitment to the organization of Professor Pavus’s library on Friday. We’re tough, we’ll sleep when we die.” She giggled. “Was that a dramatic enough rallying cry?”

“All right, all right,” he sighed. “Sleep is for the weak and all of that. But if we end up crashing here and Professor Pavus finds us in the morning, I’m holding you personally responsible.”

“Fair enough. But he loves me, so I’ll be fine.” She adopted a “cute and innocent” type of look. “Besides, he probably wouldn’t care as long as we don’t drool on the books.”

“That’s probably actually true.” He stretched. “Well… where were we?”

 

* * *

 

Cullen was truly at a loss as to what came next. He had told Evvy everything and, by some miracle, she didn’t think he was a monster. In fact, she wanted to try and help him. But he could feel himself getting worse by the hour and part of him had to admit that putting aside his stubbornness and feeding would be far easier (plus the fact that he liked her made the desire to do so all the more pronounced). After all, it wasn’t like it would permanently harm her. Still, he found the very thought to be anathema, so he did his best to push on.

Evvy was likewise at a loss. If Cullen refused to take what he needed from her, she couldn’t very well force the issue; but at the same time, watching him grow steadily sicker broke her heart. She did what she could to distract him from his pain, talking once more about art or playing a lute (she wasn’t the best but she tried). His siblings periodically ghosted into the room, having no better idea than she how to help him besides the obvious.

After a few days of this, Cullen silently steeled himself for the inevitable. “Evvy,” he said one day in a soft, cautious tone, “I know you said you would stay with me as long as I needed you… but I think perhaps you should go. I don’t think what comes next for me is going to be… particularly pleasant, and I don’t want you to see it.”

“I don’t want to leave you,” she protested. “Whatever is happening… I want to be with you.”

“Evvy.” He took her hands in his own, which had somehow managed to become colder since the start of his illness, and regarded her with a serious look. “I don’t think I’m going to get better. You have made this week the best week of my life and I’m ready… but I don’t want you to be around when it happens.”

She shook her head. “Please, Cullen. Please don’t ask me to leave you, not when I… that is… I don’t think I could bear it. You’ve suffered alone for too long, let me stay with you.”

“What happened to your plans to go to Dragon’s Reach? I’m sure you have better things to do than watch me wither away. You have a life to live.”

She looked away. “The mountain isn’t going anywhere. It can wait for me. Don’t make me leave you, not when I care for you this much.”

He gazed at her with both sadness and something like affection in his pain-dulled eyes. “I don’t know what I’ve done to make you care for me so much. But I am grateful for it, more than I can say. If you don’t want to go… I won’t make you go, as much as I’d like to spare you the pain.”

“Thank you. Yes, it will hurt, but… it would hurt more to not have what time with you that I can. You… you really don’t know how much you mean to me, do you?”

He shook his head a little. “I can’t imagine why you would… feel such loyalty to me. I’ve done nothing to earn it.”

“You have,” she insisted. “From the first moment of our acquaintance you’ve been so kind to me - you have this way of making me feel like I’m the only woman in the world. I could live as long as you have and not feel like that again. You’ve listened to me, you’ve shown interest in my work and my dreams, and you make me feel welcome. It would be hard to walk away from you no matter what the cost.”

He blinked at her for a moment in surprise. “And you… make me feel like I’m human again. Somehow I believe you when you say you could live this long and not feel this way again, because I’m nearly a hundred years old and I’ve never had anyone look at me the way you do. I thought I was imagining it or that it would fade when you knew the truth about me. But here you are. You really have brought more light into my life just by sitting quietly beside me than anyone has in decades.”

She blushed, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “I love you,” she admitted finally.

“And I love you,” he replied in a choked voice. “And I would kiss you, but it would probably be... so cold.”

Her smile was sad, but also hopeful. “Somehow I don’t think I’d mind very much, if you want to try.”

He returned her smile and nodded a little. With great effort, he pulled himself up a bit more and, looking into her eyes for a moment, leaned in almost cautiously. Her hands found his icy cheeks as their lips met, and for one brief instant, the warmth of her kiss seemed to put life into him. It was enough to nearly make him weep and when they finally broke apart, he was trembling as though he had been the one chilled, not her.

“I’ll never forget that,” he said softly, tears in his eyes. “Whether I live for a week or another hundred years.”

Evvy’s smile was heartbroken. “Neither will I,” she promised. “Oh, Cullen. I wish you would just… let me help you. Think how much more time we could have together if you would.”

“You make a tempting offer,” he admitted. “But it would only be a temporary solution, wouldn’t it? I’m immortal, Evvy, and you… you aren’t. And would you really be happy with me, a dead man?”

“I would be happy with you in this or any life. No, I’m not immortal, but - I read too many of the wrong books, Cullen, because I want to say _my love is._ ” She laughed.

He couldn’t help but laugh as well. “Forever is a very long time, my darling Evvy,” he pointed out. “But apart from my siblings and my dearly departed parents, no one has ever loved me for more than five minutes, so I must admit the idea of someone loving me forever is… wonderful.”

“I guess… there’s no way for me to spend it with you, is there? To stay with you in this?”

He suddenly looked horror-struck. “My love, no! I wouldn’t wish this curse on my worst enemy, let alone you. I would do anything to spare you such a thing.”

“Then please - if you won’t keep me with you forever, at least do what you must to be with me as long as possible.” Her eyes were begging him. “Don’t leave me now when I’ve found you.”

He was silent for a profoundly long time. Then, at last, he nodded. “If that’s what you really want…” he whispered. “All right.”

“What I want is you, my love. No price is too high to pay for that.”

He nodded again, although he looked a bit tragic. “Then help me sit up, darling. And then turn around - I don’t think I can bear to look at you while I do this.”

She obeyed his request, easing him to a sitting position before turning away from him and pulling her hair out of his way. “I trust you, Cullen. I know you would never hurt me. I just want you not to suffer.”

“I know.” He choked. “Your kindness is why I love you so. I’m so sorry, Ev, this is going to hurt a little, but you’ll be all right, I promise.” He bent, kissing the side of her neck briefly, almost as if in apology, before sinking his hidden fangs through the flesh.

She uttered a little cry of pain, feeling woozy as life itself was drained from her body. Sinking backwards into his embrace, she fell quiet, lying limply in his arms. _If it saves him… it’s worth it…_

It took a little longer than such feedings usually did - given how long he had waited to do it, it made sense - and when he could finally break away, he cradled her, half blind with tears. She would be fine and he would probably be likewise now, but seeing her like this was even harder than he had imagined it and for a while all he could do was cry softly as he stroked her hair, whispering apologies she wouldn’t hear.

Mia soon came to check on Cullen, and was astonished to find an unconscious Evvy curled in his arms. “Oh, Maker, Cullen,” she said in relief. “You’ve fed - you look so much better. And she’ll be all right.”

“I know,” he said, sniffing hard as he glanced up at his sister, then back down at Evvy. He ran his hand down her cheek with the utmost tenderness, tears still on his own cheeks. “That doesn’t make it easier, though. She loves me, Mia. This beautiful, kind-hearted creature loves _me_.”

In spite of herself, Mia smiled. “I don’t know why you’re surprised,” she said fondly. “No, I take that back, yes I do. But trust me when I say that _I’m_ not surprised at all. And you love her.”

“I do. Very much.” He occupied himself by rocking her unconscious form back and forth for a long minute before looking up again. “She begged me to do this, said she couldn’t bear losing me… that she wanted us to be able to spend as much time as we could together.”

“You should marry her.” The words were out before Mia thought better of them. “I mean - well - whatever the equivalent would be for us, I doubt we could get a priestess in here. But you know what I mean.”

He looked somewhat surprised. “Mia, how could I? She’s mortal and I’m… this. Neither avenue is pleasant in that situation.”

“I know. But it’s something to consider… for one thing, the de Launcet sisters would probably leave you alone.” She winked. “Besides, you two love each other, you should find _some_ way to confirm that.”

He nodded. “She… she said she wants to… be with me,” he said, smiling a bit in spite of himself. “And Maker knows I’d like nothing more. As you say, it’s something to consider.” He wasn’t entirely sure of that or of what came next, but if nothing else, he would be alive to think about it.

Evvy gave a little moan, then, as she started coming around. “What… what happened?” she asked, blinking in confusion, then smiling up at Cullen. “Oh… hello, you.”

“Hello, my darling love,” he said, brushing the hair from her face. “Are you all right?”

“Tired… and a little cold… oh, you look so much better though. I’m glad.”

“I’m only sorry it had to come about this way. I hated doing that to you.” He was still stroking her cheek. “But you’ll be all right, my love, I promise. Can you forgive me for having to put you in that position?”

“There’s nothing to forgive. I would do it over again in a heartbeat for you,” she insisted weakly. “Anything for you.”

“Shhh,” he said gently. “I would never ask for anything more than your love. You’re the only thing I need.” He bent to press a kiss to her forehead.

“My love you have. Today and always,” she promised. “You’re the only thing I need too.”

 

* * *

 

“This is good stuff,” said Jim, “but how do we get to the curse being lifted?”

“I’ve been wondering the same thing myself,” Rory agreed. “Such a thing should come about because of… well, I was going to say ‘true love’s kiss,’ but in this case it’s sort of like ‘true love’s bite’ I guess. And that would come about by him agreeing to turn her into a vampire, right? So how do we get there?”

“That’s what I can’t work out. Should the others talk him into it? And how _does_ he turn her into a vampire, anyway? We kind of need to know that.”

“True. Maybe it’s all about intention? Like when they feed they’re just feeding, but turning someone into a vampire it’s more intentional. And probably not very pleasant, come to think of it.” She scrunched her face a little. “And as for how he arrives at that conclusion, you’re right, maybe his siblings should try to convince him. Or else something happens that makes it seem a good idea.”

“Or what if something happens to Evvy where if he doesn’t turn her, she’ll die?” he suggested. “That might push him into it.”

“That would do it. Is that _too_ schmaltzy though? I mean, cheesy is what we do best, but is that just over-the-top?”

“We could poll our beta readers and see what they think.”

“Ooh, that’s a great idea! I’m sure they won’t mind. Plus it means they just get more sneak peeks.”

“Exactly. Gotta give the people what they want, after all.” He winked.

“Know your audience and all that.” She giggled. “We’ll get them all together during lunchtime and see what’s up.”

“Nice. Most helpful reader gets an extra cameo?” Jim laughed.

“I like it! We still didn’t expressly mention Nessa, you know, she’s gonna kick us.”

“Yeah, that’s true. Any ideas?”

“Well, if all else fails, maybe we can call back to our _Beauty and the Beast_ drama club days and make her a feather duster.” Rory laughed.

“You know what, she’d probably find that hilarious.” Jim grinned. “Come on, I think we need to feed almost as much as Cullen did.”

“You’re not wrong on either account, my friend.” She laughed again. “Although Maker, I hope we don’t have tomato soup or tomato juice or something. Ew.”

“Oh, can you _imagine_? I might never be able to look at tomato-based products the same way again.”

“The sacrifices we make for our art,” Rory said, pretending to sigh as they made their way down to meet their friends.

~

“Here they come,” said Krem, spotting his girlfriend. “Well, what kind of spoilers can we get from you today, babe? You look tired, didn’t you sleep well last night?”

“We… might have pulled an all-nighter last night writing this story,” she admitted. “Or as close to an all-nighter as possible. It’s fine, I’ll sleep when it’s finished, but you’re sweet to ask.” She gave him a bright smile. “But you are in luck, messere, because we come not only bearing spoilers, but seeking advice. If you guys are up for it, that is, of course.”

“Uh, _yeah_ ,” said Skinner, maybe a bit too eagerly. “What do you need?”

“Well,” Rory said almost conspiratorially, sitting down. “We’re approaching the climax of the story and we can’t quite figure out how to approach it.”

“Meaning what, exactly? What are the options?” asked Nessa.

“So our vampire siblings here think they’re doomed to living as vampires forever, right? Well, of course, true love saves the day, as Cullen finds out when he tries to turn his beloved into a vampire. But what we can’t figure out is… what would induce him to try? We thought maybe her life should be endangered and that would be the only way to save her, but is that too cheesy even for us?”

“Cheesy isn’t a bad thing, though,” offered Seamus. “And if you don’t go that route, what else would push him in that direction?”

“Definitely a good question, since he’s dead set against doing this. The only other thing I can even think of is that she gets betrothed to someone else and this is their out. Jimmy and I like that particular plotline quite a bit, in case you all weren’t aware that we are literally the schmaltziest dorks ever.”

There was a general chuckle. “But she’s wandering around in Ferelden and it would be hard for her to get betrothed that way,” Nessa pointed out with a smile. “I think the ‘her life is in danger’ plan makes more sense.”

“Hmm… maybe something happens with that maleficar that started this whole mess in the first place,” Rory mused. “Maybe he comes back for some reason, I dunno, we’ll figure it out. Anyway, so, general consensus is the ‘life’s in danger’ plot, is it?”

“Yeah, I vote for it,” said Krem. “Let the vampire be a hero and earn his return to humanity.” He smiled. “Have I recovered from being bitten yet, by the way?”

“Oh, I think you’re safe and sound and back to work by now,” she told him playfully. “Lady Rosalie is a lucky girl. Maybe she’ll choose you even when she’s not a vampire anymore, who knows?”

“Or maybe Mr. Rylen will come into town by then and sweep her off her feet like in real life,” Nessa said with a giggle.

“Anything is possible. Although we should finish this one first before we start planning any spin-offs.” Rory likewise giggled.

“Now the question,” said Jim, “is _how_ does Evvy’s life become endangered? She’s pretty dang safe inside a castle owned by four vampires.”

“Well then, something will have to draw her out,” Rory said. “Whether that something involves her going out alone or… ooh, perhaps her dashing vampire lord accompanies her out at night now that he’s feeling better.”

“And something attacks her? Hmm… like what?” Jim chuckled suddenly. “A werewolf?”

“Why, James Scout, that would be mixing supernatural lore, don’tcha know?” Rory teased.

“Yeah, I was just kidding. What if it’s something totally banal, like a bear?”

“Maker knows Ferelden has them enough to spare, that’s true. Or bandits? They see she’s out with the lord and attack them?”

“Bandits would work, yeah. Especially if they don’t know what the lord really is…”

“Maybe they’re just some wandering thugs who have no idea about the bannorn’s secret. Well, we can see where the story leads us. Whatever direction it takes, it's bound to be totally ridiculous and amazing.” She grinned.

 

* * *

 

Now that she and Cullen understood one another, Evvy was starting to enjoy her new life. The walks in the woods were her favorite part; Cullen couldn’t bear the sun, of course, but after dark they went out into the forest and she found it a thrilling new experience to see the world in this way. “The moon is almost full,” she observed.

“So it is,” he said, glancing up. “It’s beautiful when the forest is bathed in moonlight. But my favorite have always been the stars. They’re so clear here, especially on a night like this.”

“They are spectacular,” she agreed. She leaned against a tree and watched him fondly; he seemed to glow in the moonlight, like a marble statue. “Are you happy, my love?”

He looked down at the sky at that question, a smile of surprise tugging at the corner of his lips. “Am I happy?” he repeated, his eyes full of affection as he took a step towards her. “With you, of course I am. I wish the circumstances were different, as I have from the beginning, but here, with you, I can’t be anything but happy.”

“Good. That was what I hoped to hear.” She smiled, extending a hand to him. Before he could take it, however, a blade emerged from the shadows and found her throat.

“Then I guess his lordship won’t want anything happening to you, will he?”

Cullen took a surprised step back, in doubt of what he was seeing for a moment. Convinced of its reality, his face contorted in a mix of rage and horror. “What is this, who goes there?” he demanded of the darkness. “Let her go!”

“Easy, easy,” crooned the bandit. “Nothing to worry about, messere. Just hand over whatever pretty baubles you’re carrying and you can have her back.” He paused, sort of sniffing Evvy’s throat. “Maybe. She might be the prettiest bauble you’ve got.”

“Let her go and I swear you can go free with whatever valuables I have to give,” he promised, his hands held aloft in a gesture of placation even as he practically snarled. “But if you hurt her, it will be the last thing you ever do, mark me well.”

“Do you think I’m dumb enough to come alone, my lord?” The bandit gave a funny sort of nod, and four of his fellows stepped from the shadows. “Nice and slow, now, take out your riches and toss them on the ground.”

For a split second, Cullen considered attacking. His fangs were always there, hidden away, even during times when he didn’t need to feed, and he _could_ wield them now. But there would be virtually no way to do so without endangering Evvy even further, so he pushed it out of his mind for the time being. Perhaps once she was safely back with him, that would be another story. For now, however, he obeyed, stripping off rings and taking out coins and discarding watches. His eyes never left Evvy’s face. “It’ll be all right, love.”

“Aww, isn’t he sweet?” the lead bandit crooned. “I dunno, lads, I still think she might be worth more.”

There was a leering sort of laugh of agreement and Cullen felt a bolt of terror run through him. “Don’t!” he pleaded. “Take what you came for and go or I will be forced to do something I don’t want to do.”

“Maybe this _is_ what we came for.” The bandits had finished collecting what Cullen gave them, but their leader tightened his grip on Evvy. “You’ll have her back in the morning… what’s left of her, that is.”

Rational thought fled at that and, with a scream of rage, Cullen lunged for the bandit that held Evvy, plunging his teeth into the man’s neck. It was a horribly foolish plan - he may be immortal after all, but that didn’t protect him from getting a blade rammed into his heart. But he was desperate and, as much as he loathed his curse, it was the only thing he had that he could use to put up a fight.

With minutes, the bandits were either dead or scattered. “Cul… Cullen,” Evvy said slowly, from her place on the ground. She had one hand to her stomach, and as she moved it aside slowly, he could see the blood staining her dress. “I… his knife…”

His eyes widened in horror. In the chaos, he had lost sight of her, but he realized now that she must have been injured somehow during the fray. “Oh, no…” He fell to his knees by her side, moving to examine the injury. “No, no, no. It’s going to be fine, Evvy, you’re going to be all right. I’ll get you back to the castle.”

She nodded wearily. “It feels… strange. I don’t… I don’t think I can walk…”

“Put your arms around my neck, love, I’ll carry you. Everything’s going to be fine, all right?” He was doing his best to appear brave for her, but he had never been more terrified in his many long years.

She slumped against him as he carried her, consciousness beginning to fail. If she had to die… at least she was with him. It could be worse.

They hadn’t been that far from the castle, and yet the return seemed to take ages. He was doing his best to keep her from slipping into darkness and to keep himself from surrendering to panic, both efforts diminishing the longer he tried until at last he was rushing through the doors to Rutherford Hall, screaming for help.

Mia, Branson and Rosalie came on the run to find out what had happened. They all talked over one another, asking questions and fussing over Evvy, but finally they got her to Cullen’s room and settled her on the bed. Mia looked at her injury and shook her head with tears in her eyes.

“It’s deep, Cul… I don’t think she’ll make it long enough for us to send for the healer.”

Cullen stared at his sister in wide-eyed disbelief. “What do you mean, what are you talking about?” he asked, frantic. “Surely you can do something, can’t you? Mia, please, can’t you?”

“There’s… there’s only one thing… oh sweetie, I hate to say it. But I think the only way… you have to turn her.”

At once, Cullen buried his face in his hands, a strangled sob escaping him. “I don’t… I don’t even know how,” he protested. “We’ve never done that to anyone before, we only ever fed on them.”

“She has to drink your blood,” Branson said softly. “I remember reading it, a long time ago. It means… you belong to each other forever.”

“When you put it like that, it sounds almost sweet,” said Rosalie meekly, sniffing hard as she watched. “Should we give you some privacy, Cul?”

Cullen shook his head, eyes blinded with tears. “No. Stay. The ‘four points’ stick together, isn’t that right?” he managed hoarsely. “North, South, East, and West.”

Mia smiled, and squeezed his hand. “Best wake her, then.”

Trembling, Cullen bent to kiss her, then leaned up a bit to whisper in her ear. “Evvy? Ev, it’s me, Cul. Wake up, my darling, please wake up.” He gave her shoulders a bit of a shake.

“Cul… I’m… sorry.” Her green eyes were dull as they opened and gazed at him. “I thought… there’d be more… time…”

“I know, darling, I know. Shhh, don’t apologize.” He took her hands. “I’m the one who’s sorry, my love, but… there’s only one way I can save you. I never wanted to do this to you, but I can turn you.” He was forced to pause as his voice cracked. He gave a little groan that suggested he was attempting to steel himself. “I can turn you and we’ll be together. We’ll belong to each other for all eternity.”

She smiled dazedly. “That’s all I want… whatever it takes… let me be with you. I said I would.”

His hand found her cheek for a moment. “It won’t be pleasant, I’m sorry. But I’ll be waiting for you when it’s done.” His heart ached at the thought of turning her into a monster, like some sort of stain he would never be able to scrub from his life. But from a completely selfish point of view, he wanted her to live and he wanted to be with her for as long as possible. “I love you,” he promised, pressing a kiss to her forehead before beginning the ritual.

“I love you too,” she whispered. “Always.” She was too drained and confused to be afraid.

For a moment he was shaking so violently that he was sure he wouldn’t even be able to go through with it. But he forced himself to bite down on the flesh on his arm until he drew blood, just enough to let it trickle down her throat. If they were right about this, she should live - well, in a manner of speaking - and any minute now she would draw new breath as he had when his siblings made the arrangement to save him over fifty years ago.

But instead it was Cullen who drew new breath, a quick almost frightened gasp of shock. Reflexively, he drew his hands to his chest and for the first time in decades he could feel something there.

“What…” It was Branson who first managed to speak, his fingers flying up to catch the side of his throat. “Am… am I going mad or do I… have a pulse?”

“You’re not going mad,” said a thoroughly shocked Rosalie. “I feel it too.”

Cullen, still gaping, looked down at the hand that was clasped over his chest. “I have a pulse.” He repeated Branson’s words in shock. Then, he looked up at his siblings. “You all… you all feel it too? I don’t understand. Are we… alive?”

Evvy, genuinely perplexed, looked down at the wound on her stomach. “And I’m… healed,” she said slowly. “You - Cullen, what did you do?”

“I don’t know,” he said truthfully, looking at her in astonishment. He studied the healed wound then bent to press his ear to her chest. “And your heart still beats. You didn’t turn, but you’re healed, and we…” He took her hand and pressed it to his own chest, over his heart. “Do you feel it? Do you feel it?” His sorrow was slowly being replaced by hope and a mounting sense of joy.

“I feel it!” She laughed, almost unbelievably joyful. “I feel it, Cullen, I do! You’re - _you’re alive_ ! You’re _all_ alive again!”

“Oh, my darling!” With a cry of delight, he threw his arms around her, laughing as well. “I don’t know how this is possible, but somehow it is! It’s all I’ve wanted for so long and it’s true!”

In short order, all five of them were tangled in a happy embrace. “I can’t say I understand it,” said Mia, weeping with overwhelming emotion, “but I don’t really care, either. We’re alive.”

“No, I don’t understand it or much care either,” said Cullen. “But it must have been something with trying to turn Evvy. There must have been something about you that saved us. Something that broke the curse.”

“True love conquers all,” Branson teased. “No, really, maybe it does.”

“You may be right,” Cullen said slowly. “Think about it, the only reason you all agreed to the magister’s agreement in the first place is because you loved me too much to let me die. Your love saved me. And then love saved us again. That can’t be coincidental.”

“Let’s go downstairs,” Rosalie suggested. “It’s almost sunrise. We can send word to the villages that the curse is lifted and maybe have a nice big celebration.” Her eyes twinkled as she added, “For your wedding, perhaps.”

“Rosalie,” Cullen chided lightly, but he couldn’t help but laugh. A little shyly, he turned to Evvy, taking her hands again. “I’m afraid I can’t offer you eternity anymore, my darling. But I can offer you as many years as the Maker blesses me with and I gladly will if you want them. I’m free now and I can give myself to you entirely - no fear, no doubt, no sorrow. Just love.”

“That’s all I’ve wanted from the moment we met.” Her smile was luminous. “A thousand times yes.”

There were tears of joy in his eyes as he embraced her yet again. “You brought me out of the darkness and into the light,” he told her softly.

“I’ll try to keep doing it,” she promised.

“I don’t think you’ll have to try very hard,” he assured her, leaning in to kiss her. “Now… shall we go downstairs? I haven’t seen a sunrise in so very, very long and I would like to see it with you.”

“I can think of nothing better, my love.”

 

* * *

 

“What do you think? Good ending?” Jim asked.

“Bestie, I think that’s a perfect ending.” Rory beamed. “This whole thing has been perfect, if I do say so myself. Thank you for thinking of it.”

“Let’s let Ness read the whole thing, and then we’ll figure out fake names for everybody and give it a final edit,” he suggested. “But for now… I kind of need a nap.”

“That’s fair, given I’ve been slave-driving you.” She laughed. “Come to think of it, a nap does sound pretty amazing, I won’t even lie.”

“We need a title, though,” said Jim. “Let’s try to come up with that before we give Ness the finished product. How about… _Fangs for the Memories_?”

Rory halted midstep and stared at him. “Seriously? You're not funny, you know that?” she said dryly, even as she tried not to crack a smile.

“All right, what about… hmm… _Our Love Was Not in Vein._ Or maybe _Once Bitten, Twice Shy_ ? Or how about, simply, _Bite Me_?”

“Jim, in the immortal words of Professor Pentaghast, _ugh_.”

 

* * *

 

_~Fin~_

* * *

 


End file.
